The cold concrete walls of the secluded, dry maintenance shaft offered a temporary refuge from the escalating chaos below, but the silence inside the ventilation grid was far from peaceful. Delon slumped against the metal grating of a primary intake vent, his breathing shallow and uneven as his lungs cleared the remaining traces of the green toxic vapor. The air here was sharp with the scent of old dust and industrial grease, a sterile containment that felt more like a tomb than a hiding spot. His hands trembled violently as he pressed his palms against his face, his mind buckled under an exhausting wave of moral failure.
"I dragged her into that swirling vortex," Delon muttered, his voice cracking slightly in the dark, narrow corridor. "Zyfa is trapped in that interrogation cell becaus
